The Dealings of Captain Sharkey, and Other Tales of Pirates
Page 12
XII
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX
"All aboard?" said the captain.
"All aboard, sir!" said the mate.
"Then stand by to let her go."
It was nine o'clock on a Wednesday morning. The good ship _Spartan_ waslying off Boston Quay with her cargo under hatches, her passengersshipped, and everything prepared for a start. The warning whistle hadbeen sounded twice; the final bell had been rung. Her bowsprit wasturned towards England, and the hiss of escaping steam showed that allwas ready for her run of three thousand miles. She strained at the warpsthat held her like a greyhound at its leash.
I have the misfortune to be a very nervous man. A sedentary literarylife has helped to increase the morbid love of solitude which, even inmy boyhood, was one of my distinguishing characteristics. As I stoodupon the quarter-deck of the Transatlantic steamer, I bitterly cursedthe necessity which drove me back to the land of my forefathers. Theshouts of the sailors, the rattle of the cordage, the farewells of myfellow-passengers, and the cheers of the mob, each and all jarred uponmy sensitive nature. I felt sad too. An indescribable feeling, as ofsome impending calamity, seemed to haunt me. The sea was calm, and thebreeze light. There was nothing to disturb the equanimity of the mostconfirmed of landsmen, yet I felt as if I stood upon the verge of agreat though indefinable danger. I have noticed that such presentimentsoccur often in men of my peculiar temperament, and that they are notuncommonly fulfilled. There is a theory that it arises from a species ofsecond-sight, a subtle spiritual communication with the future. I wellremember that Herr Raumer, the eminent spiritualist, remarked on oneoccasion that I was the most sensitive subject as regards supernaturalphenomena that he had ever encountered in the whole of his wideexperience. Be that as it may, I certainly felt far from happy as Ithreaded my way among the weeping, cheering groups which dotted thewhite decks of the good ship _Spartan_. Had I known the experience whichawaited me in the course of the next twelve hours I should even then atthe last moment have sprung upon the shore, and made my escape from theaccursed vessel.
"Time's up!" said the captain, closing his chronometer with a snap, andreplacing it in his pocket. "Time's up!" said the mate. There was a lastwail from the whistle, a rush of friends and relatives upon the land.One warp was loosened, the gangway was being pushed away, when there wasa shout from the bridge, and two men appeared, running rapidly down thequay. They were waving their hands and making frantic gestures,apparently with the intention of stopping the ship. "Look sharp!"shouted the crowd. "Hold hard!" cried the captain. "Ease her! stop her!Up with the gangway!" and the two men sprang aboard just as the secondwarp parted, and a convulsive throb of the engine shot us clear of theshore. There was a cheer from the deck, another from the quay, a mightyfluttering of handkerchiefs, and the great vessel ploughed its way outof the harbour, and steamed grandly away across the placid bay.
We were fairly started upon our fortnight's voyage. There was a generaldive among the passengers in quest of berths and luggage, while apopping of corks in the saloon proved that more than one bereavedtraveller was adopting artificial means for drowning the pangs ofseparation. I glanced round the deck and took a running inventory of my_compagnons de voyage_. They presented the usual types met with uponthese occasions. There was no striking face among them. I speak as aconnoisseur, for faces are a speciality of mine. I pounce upon acharacteristic feature as a botanist does on a flower, and bear it awaywith me to analyse at my leisure, and classify and label it in my littleanthropological museum. There was nothing worthy of me here. Twentytypes of young America going to "Yurrup," a few respectable middle-agedcouples as an antidote, a sprinkling of clergymen and professional men,young ladies, bagmen, British exclusives, and all the _olla podrida_ ofan ocean-going steamer. I turned away from them and gazed back at thereceding shores of America, and, as a cloud of remembrances rose beforeme, my heart warmed towards the land of my adoption. A pile ofportmanteaus and luggage chanced to be lying on one side of the deck,awaiting their turn to be taken below. With my usual love for solitude Iwalked behind these, and sitting on a coil of rope between them and thevessel's side, I indulged in a melancholy reverie.
I was aroused from this by a whisper behind me. "Here's a quiet place,"said the voice. "Sit down, and we can talk it over in safety."
Glancing through a chink between two colossal chests, I saw that thepassengers who had joined us at the last moment were standing at theother side of the pile. They had evidently failed to see me as Icrouched in the shadow of the boxes. The one who had spoken was a talland very thin man with a blue-black beard and a colourless face. Hismanner was nervous and excited. His companion was a short plethoriclittle fellow, with a brisk and resolute air. He had a cigar in hismouth, and a large ulster slung over his left arm. They both glancedround uneasily, as if to ascertain whether they were alone. "This isjust the place," I heard the other say. They sat down on a bale of goodswith their backs turned towards me, and I found myself, much against mywill, playing the unpleasant part of eavesdropper to their conversation.
"Well, Muller," said the taller of the two, "we've got it aboard rightenough."
"Yes," assented the man whom he had addressed as Muller, "it's safeaboard."
"It was rather a near go."
"It was that, Flannigan."
"It wouldn't have done to have missed the ship."
"No, it would have put our plans out."
"Ruined them entirely," said the little man, and puffed furiously at hiscigar for some minutes.
"I've got it here," he said at last.
"Let me see it."
"Is no one looking?"
"No, they are nearly all below."
"We can't be too careful where so much is at stake," said Muller, as heuncoiled the ulster which hung over his arm, and disclosed a dark objectwhich he laid upon the deck. One glance at it was enough to cause me tospring to my feet with an exclamation of horror. Luckily they were soengrossed in the matter on hand that neither of them observed me. Hadthey turned their heads they would infallibly have seen my pale faceglaring at them over the pile of boxes.
From the first moment of their conversation a horrible misgiving hadcome over me. It seemed more than confirmed as I gazed at what laybefore me. It was a little square box made of some dark wood, and ribbedwith brass. I suppose it was about the size of a cubic foot. It remindedme of a pistol-case, only it was decidedly higher. There was anappendage to it, however, on which my eyes were riveted, and whichsuggested the pistol itself rather than its receptacle. This was atrigger-like arrangement upon the lid, to which a coil of string wasattached. Beside this trigger there was a small square aperture throughthe wood. The tall man, Flannigan, as his companion called him, appliedhis eye to this, and peered in for several minutes with an expression ofintense anxiety upon his face.
"It seems right enough," he said at last.
"I tried not to shake it," said his companion.
"Such delicate things need delicate treatment. Put in some of theneedful, Muller."
The shorter man fumbled in his pocket for some time, and then produced asmall paper packet. He opened this, and took out of it half a handful ofwhitish granules, which he poured down through the hole. A curiousclicking noise followed from the inside of the box, and both men smiledin a satisfied way.
"Nothing much wrong there," said Flannigan.
"Right as a trivet," answered his companion.
"Look out! here's some one coming. Take it down to our berth. Itwouldn't do to have any one suspecting what our game is, or, worsestill, have them fumbling with it, and letting it off by mistake."
"Well, it would come to the same, whoever let it off," said Muller.
"They'd be rather astonished if they pulled the trigger," said thetaller, with a sinister laugh. "Ha, ha! fancy their faces! It's not abad bit of workmanship, I flatter myself."
"No," said Muller. "I hear it is your own design, every bit of it, isn'tit?"
"Yes, the spring and the sliding shutt
er are my own."
"We should take out a patent."
And the two men laughed again with a cold harsh laugh, as they took upthe little brass-bound package, and concealed it in Muller's voluminousovercoat.
"Come down, and we'll stow it in our berth," said Flannigan. "We won'tneed it until to-night, and it will be safe there."
His companion assented, and the two went arm-in-arm along the deck anddisappeared down the hatchway, bearing the mysterious little box awaywith them. The last words I heard were a muttered injunction fromFlannigan to carry it carefully, and avoid knocking it against thebulwarks.
How long I remained sitting on that coil of rope I shall never know. Thehorror of the conversation I had just overheard was aggravated by thefirst sinking qualms of sea-sickness. The long roll of the Atlantic wasbeginning to assert itself over both ship and passengers. I feltprostrated in mind and in body, and fell into a state of collapse, fromwhich I was finally aroused by the hearty voice of our worthyquartermaster.
"Do you mind moving out of that, sir?" he said. "We want to get thislumber cleared off the deck."
His bluff manner and ruddy healthy face seemed to be a positive insultto me in my present condition. Had I been a courageous or a muscular manI could have struck him. As it was, I treated the honest sailor to amelodramatic scowl which seemed to cause him no small astonishment, andstrode past him to the other side of the deck. Solitude was what Iwanted--solitude in which I could brood over the frightful crime whichwas being hatched before my very eyes. One of the quarter-boats washanging rather low down upon the davits. An idea struck me, and climbingon the bulwarks, I stepped into the empty boat and lay down in thebottom of it. Stretched on my back, with nothing but the blue sky aboveme, and an occasional view of the mizzen as the vessel rolled, I was atlast alone with my sickness and my thoughts.
I tried to recall the words which had been spoken in the terribledialogue I had overheard. Would they admit of any construction but theone which stared me in the face? My reason forced me to confess thatthey would not. I endeavoured to array the various facts which formedthe chain of circumstantial evidence, and to find a flaw in it; but no,not a link was missing. There was the strange way in which ourpassengers had come aboard, enabling them to evade any examination oftheir luggage. The very name of "Flannigan" smacked of Fenianism, while"Muller" suggested nothing but socialism and murder. Then theirmysterious manner; their remark that their plans would have been ruinedhad they missed the ship; their fear of being observed; last, but notleast, the clenching evidence in the production of the little square boxwith the trigger, and their grim joke about the face of the man whoshould let it off by mistake--could these facts lead to any conclusionother than that they were the desperate emissaries of somebody,political or otherwise, who intended to sacrifice themselves, theirfellow-passengers, and the ship, in one great holocaust? The whitishgranules which I had seen one of them pour into the box formed no doubta fuse or train for exploding it. I had myself heard a sound come fromit which might have emanated from some delicate piece of machinery. Butwhat did they mean by their allusion to to-night? Could it be that theycontemplated putting their horrible design into execution on the veryfirst evening of our voyage? The mere thought of it sent a cold shudderover me, and made me for a moment superior even to the agonies ofsea-sickness.
I have remarked that I am a physical coward. I am a moral one also. Itis seldom that the two defects are united to such a degree in the onecharacter. I have known many men who were most sensitive to bodilydanger, and yet were distinguished for the independence and strength oftheir minds. In my own case, however, I regret to say that my quiet andretiring habits had fostered a nervous dread of doing anythingremarkable or making myself conspicuous, which exceeded, if possible, myfear of personal peril. An ordinary mortal placed under thecircumstances in which I now found myself would have gone at once to theCaptain, confessed his fears, and put the matter into his hands. To me,however, constituted as I am, the idea was most repugnant. The thoughtof becoming the observed of all observers, cross-questioned by astranger, and confronted with two desperate conspirators in thecharacter of a denouncer, was hateful to me. Might it not by some remotepossibility prove that I was mistaken? What would be my feelings ifthere should turn out to be no grounds for my accusation? No, I wouldprocrastinate; I would keep my eye on the two desperadoes and dog themat every turn. Anything was better than the possibility of being wrong.
Then it struck me that even at that moment some new phase of theconspiracy might be developing itself. The nervous excitement seemed tohave driven away my incipient attack of sickness, for I was able tostand up and lower myself from the boat without experiencing any returnof it. I staggered along the deck with the intention of descending intothe cabin and finding how my acquaintances of the morning were occupyingthemselves. Just as I had my hand on the companion-rail, I wasastonished by receiving a hearty slap on the back, which nearly shot medown the steps with more haste than dignity.
"Is that you, Hammond?" said a voice which I seemed to recognise.
"God bless me," I said, as I turned round, "it can't be Dick Merton!Why, how are you, old man?"
This was an unexpected piece of luck in the midst of my perplexities.Dick was just the man I wanted; kindly and shrewd in his nature, andprompt in his actions, I should have no difficulty in telling him mysuspicions, and could rely upon his sound sense to point out the bestcourse to pursue. Since I was a little lad in the second form at Harrow,Dick had been my adviser and protector. He saw at a glance thatsomething had gone wrong with me.
"Hullo!" he said, in his kindly way, "what's put you about, Hammond? Youlook as white as a sheet. _Mal de mer_, eh?"
"No, not that altogether," said I. "Walk up and down with me, Dick; Iwant to speak to you. Give me your arm."
Supporting myself on Dick's stalwart frame, I tottered along by hisside; but it was some time before I could muster resolution to speak.
"Have a cigar?" said he, breaking the silence.
"No, thanks," said I. "Dick, we shall be all corpses to-night."
"That's no reason against your having a cigar now," said Dick, in hiscool way, but looking hard at me from under his shaggy eyebrows as hespoke. He evidently thought that my intellect was a little gone.
"No," I continued, "it's no laughing matter; and I speak in soberearnest, I assure you. I have discovered an infamous conspiracy, Dick,to destroy this ship and every soul that is in her;" and I thenproceeded systematically, and in order, to lay before him the chain ofevidence which I had collected. "There, Dick," I said, as I concluded,"what do you think of that and, above all, what am I to do?"
To my astonishment he burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
"I'd be frightened," he said, "if any fellow but you had told me asmuch. You always had a way, Hammond, of discovering mares' nests. I liketo see the old traits breaking out again. Do you remember at school howyou swore there was a ghost in the long room, and how it turned out tobe your own reflection in the mirror? Why, man," he continued, "whatobject would any one have in destroying this ship? We have no greatpolitical guns aboard. On the contrary, the majority of the passengersare Americans. Besides, in this sober nineteenth century, the mostwholesale murderers stop at including themselves among their victims.Depend upon it, you have misunderstood them, and have mistaken aphotographic camera, or something equally innocent, for an infernalmachine."
"Nothing of the sort, sir," said I, rather touchily. "You will learn toyour cost, I fear, that I have neither exaggerated nor misinterpreted aword. As to the box, I have certainly never before seen one like it. Itcontained delicate machinery; of that I am convinced, from the way inwhich the men handled it and spoke of it."
"You'd make out every packet of perishable goods to be a torpedo," saidDick, "if that is to be your only test."
"The man's name was Flannigan," I continued.
"I don't think that would go very far in a court of law," said Dick;"but come, I have finished my cigar. Suppos
e we go down together andsplit a bottle of claret. You can point out these two Orsinis to me ifthey are still in the cabin."
"All right," I answered; "I am determined not to lose sight of them allday. Don't look hard at them, though, for I don't want them to thinkthat they are being watched."
"Trust me," said Dick; "I'll look as unconscious and guileless as alamb;" and with that we passed down the companion and into the saloon.
A good many passengers were scattered about the great central table,some wrestling with refractory carpet-bags and rug-straps, some havingtheir luncheon, and a few reading and otherwise amusing themselves. Theobjects of our quest were not there. We passed down the room and peeredinto every berth, but there was no sign of them. "Heavens!" thought I,"perhaps at this very moment they are beneath our feet, in the hold orengine-room, preparing their diabolical contrivance!" It was better toknow the worst than to remain in such suspense.
"Steward," said Dick, "are there any other gentlemen about?"
"There's two in the smoking room, sir," answered the steward.
The smoking-room was a little snuggery, luxuriously fitted up, andadjoining the pantry. We pushed the door opened and entered. A sigh ofrelief escaped from my bosom. The very first object on which my eyerested was the cadaverous face of Flannigan, with its hard-set mouth andunwinking eye. His companion sat opposite to him. They were bothdrinking, and a pile of cards lay upon the table. They were engaged inplaying as we entered. I nudged Dick to show him that we had found ourquarry, and we sat down beside them with as unconcerned an air aspossible. The two conspirators seemed to take little notice of ourpresence. I watched them both narrowly. The game at which they wereplaying was "Napoleon." Both were adepts at it, and I could not helpadmiring the consummate nerve of men who, with such a secret at theirhearts, could devote their minds to the manipulation of a long suit orthe finessing of a queen. Money changed hands rapidly; but the run ofluck seemed to be all against the taller of the two players. At last hethrew down his cards on the table with an oath, and refused to go on.
"No, I'm hanged if I do," he said; "I haven't had more than two of asuit for five hands."
"Never mind," said his comrade, as he gathered up his winnings; "a fewdollars one way or the other won't go very far after to-night's work."
I was astonished at the rascal's audacity, but took care to keep my eyesfixed abstractedly upon the ceiling, and drank my wine in as unconsciousa manner as possible. I felt that Flannigan was looking towards me withhis wolfish eyes to see if I had noticed the allusion. He whisperedsomething to his companion which I failed to catch. It was a caution, Isuppose, for the other answered rather angrily--
"Nonsense! Why shouldn't I say what I like? Over-caution is just whatwould ruin us."
"I believe you want it not to come off," said Flannigan.
"You believe nothing of the sort," said the other, speaking rapidly andloudly. "You know as well as I do that when I play for a stake I like towin it. But I won't have my words criticised and cut short by you or anyother man. I have as much interest in our success as you have--more, Ihope."
He was quite hot about it, and puffed furiously at his cigar for someminutes. The eyes of the other ruffian wandered alternately from DickMerton to myself. I knew that I was in the presence of a desperate man,that a quiver of my lip might be the signal for him to plunge a weaponinto my heart, but I betrayed more self-command than I should have givenmyself credit for under such trying circumstances. As to Dick, he was asimmovable and apparently as unconscious as the Egyptian Sphinx.
There was silence for some time in the smoking-room, broken only by thecrisp rattle of the cards, as the man Muller shuffled them up beforereplacing them in his pocket. He still seemed to be somewhat flushed andirritable. Throwing the end of his cigar into the spittoon, he glanceddefiantly at his companion and turned towards me.
"Can you tell me, sir," he said, "when this ship will be heard ofagain?"
They were both looking at me; but though my face may have turned atrifle paler, my voice was as steady as ever as I answered--
"I presume, sir, that it will be heard of first when it entersQueenstown Harbour."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the angry little man, "I knew you would say that.Don't you kick me under the table, Flannigan, I won't stand it. I knowwhat I am doing. You are wrong, sir," he continued, turning to me,"utterly wrong."
"Some passing ship, perhaps," suggested Dick.
"No, nor that either."
"The weather is fine," I said; "why should we not be heard of at ourdestination?"
"I didn't say we shouldn't be heard of at our destination. Possibly wemay not, and in any case that is not where we shall be heard of first."
"Where, then?" asked Dick.
"That you shall never know. Suffice it that a rapid and mysteriousagency will signal our whereabouts, and that before the day is out. Ha,ha!" and he chuckled once again.
"Come on deck!" growled his comrade; "you have drunk too much of thatconfounded brandy-and-water. It has loosened your tongue. Come away!"and taking him by the arm he half led him, half forced him out of thesmoking-room, and we heard them stumbling up the companion together, andon to the deck.
"Well, what do you think now?" I gasped, as I turned towards Dick. Hewas as imperturbable as ever.
"Think!" he said; "why, I think what his companion thinks, that we havebeen listening to the ravings of a half-drunken man. The fellow stunk ofbrandy."
"Nonsense, Dick! you saw how the other tried to stop his tongue."
"Of course he did. He didn't want his friend to make a fool of himselfbefore strangers. Maybe the short one is a lunatic, and the other hisprivate keeper. It's quite possible."
"O, Dick, Dick," I cried, "how can you be so blind! Don't you see thatevery word confirmed our previous suspicion?"
"Humbug, man!" said Dick; "you're working yourself into a state ofnervous excitement. Why, what the devil do _you_ make of all thatnonsense about a mysterious agent which would signal our whereabouts?"
"I'll tell you what he meant, Dick," I said, bending forward andgrasping my friend's arm. "He meant a sudden glare and a flash seen farout at sea by some lonely fisherman off the American coast. That's whathe meant."
"I didn't think you were such a fool, Hammond," said Dick Mertontestily. "If you try to fix a literal meaning on the twaddle that everydrunken man talks, you will come to some queer conclusions. Let usfollow their example, and go on deck. You need fresh air, I think.Depend upon it, your liver is out of order. A sea-voyage will do you aworld of good."
"If ever I see the end of this one," I groaned, "I'll promise never toventure on another. They are laying the cloth, so it's hardly worthwhile my going up. I'll stay below and unpack my things."
"I hope dinner will find you in a more pleasant state of mind," saidDick; and he went out, leaving me to my thoughts until the clang of thegreat gong summoned us to the saloon.
My appetite, I need hardly say, had not been improved by the incidentswhich had occurred during the day. I sat down, however, mechanically atthe table, and listened to the talk which was going on around me. Therewere nearly a hundred first-class passengers, and as the wine began tocirculate, their voices combined with the clash of the dishes to form aperfect Babel. I found myself seated between a very stout and nervousold lady and a prim little clergyman; and as neither made any advances Iretired into my shell, and spent my time in observing the appearance ofmy fellow-voyagers. I could see Dick in the dim distance dividing hisattentions between a jointless fowl in front of him and aself-possessed young lady at his side. Captain Dowie was doing thehonours at my end, while the surgeon of the vessel was seated at theother. I was glad to notice that Flannigan was placed almost opposite tome. As long as I had him before my eyes I knew that, for the time atleast, we were safe. He was sitting with what was meant to be a sociablesmile on his grim face. It did not escape me that he drank largely ofwine--so largely that even before the dessert appeared his voice hadbecome decidedly husky. His
friend Muller was seated a few places lowerdown. He ate little, and appeared to be nervous and restless.
"Now, ladies," said our genial Captain, "I trust that you will consideryourselves at home aboard my vessel. I have no fears for the gentlemen.A bottle of champagne, steward. Here's to a fresh breeze and a quickpassage! I trust our friends in America will hear of our safe arrival ineight days, or in nine at the very latest."
I looked up. Quick as was the glance which passed between Flannigan andhis confederate, I was able to intercept it. There was an evil smileupon the former's thin lips.
The conversation rippled on. Politics, the sea, amusements, religion,each was in turn discussed. I remained a silent though an interestedlistener. It struck me that no harm could be done by introducing thesubject which was ever in my mind. It could be managed in an off-handway, and would at least have the effect of turning the Captain'sthoughts in that direction. I could watch, too, what effect it wouldhave upon the faces of the conspirators.
There was a sudden lull in the conversation. The ordinary subjects ofinterest appeared to be exhausted. The opportunity was a favourable one.
"May I ask, Captain," I said, bending forward and speaking verydistinctly, "what you think of Fenian manifestos?"
The Captain's ruddy face became a shade darker from honest indignation.
"They are poor cowardly things," he said, "as silly as they are wicked."
"The impotent threats of a set of anonymous scoundrels," said apompous-looking old gentleman beside him.
"O Captain!" said the fat lady at my side, "you don't really think theywould blow up a ship?"
"I have no doubt they would if they could. But I am very sure they shallnever blow up mine."
"May I ask what precautions are taken against them?" asked an elderlyman at the end of the table.
"All goods sent aboard the ship are strictly examined," said CaptainDowie.
"But suppose a man brought explosives aboard with him?" I suggested.
"They are too cowardly to risk their own lives in that way."
During this conversation Flannigan had not betrayed the slightestinterest in what was going on. He raised his head now and looked at theCaptain.
"Don't you think you are rather underrating them?" he said. "Everysecret society has produced desperate men--why shouldn't the Fenianshave them too? Many men think it a privilege to die in the service of acause which seems right in their eyes, though others may think itwrong."
"Indiscriminate murder cannot be fight in anybody's eyes," said thelittle clergyman.
"The bombardment of Paris was nothing else," said Flannigan; "yet thewhole civilised world agreed to look on with folded arms, and change theugly word 'murder' into the more euphonious one of 'war.' It seemedright enough to German eyes; why shouldn't dynamite seem so to theFenian?"
"At any rate their empty vapourings have led to nothing as yet," saidthe Captain.
"Excuse me," returned Flannigan, "but is there not some room for doubtyet as to the fate of the _Dotterel_? I have met men in America whoasserted from their own personal knowledge that there was a coal torpedoaboard that vessel."
"Then they lied," said the Captain. "It was proved conclusively at thecourt-martial to have arisen from an explosion of coal-gas--but we hadbetter change the subject, or we may cause the ladies to have a restlessnight;" and the conversation once more drifted back into its originalchannel.
During this little discussion Flannigan had argued his point with agentlemanly deference and a quiet power for which I had not given himcredit. I could not help admiring a man who, on the eve of a desperateenterprise, could courteously argue upon a point which must touch him sonearly. He had, as I have already mentioned, partaken of a considerablequantity of wine; but though there was a slight flush upon his palecheek, his manner was as reserved as ever. He did not join in theconversation again, but seemed to be lost in thought.
A whirl of conflicting ideas was battling in my own mind. What was I todo? Should I stand up now and denounce them before both passengers andCaptain? Should I demand a few minutes' conversation with the latter inhis own cabin, and reveal it all? For an instant I was half resolved todo it, but then the old constitutional timidity came back with redoubledforce. After all there might be some mistake. Dick had heard theevidence and had refused to believe in it. I determined to let things goon their course. A strange reckless feeling came over me. Why should Ihelp men who were blind to their own danger? Surely it was the duty ofthe officers to protect us, not ours to give warning to them. I drankoff a couple of glasses of wine, and staggered up on deck with thedetermination of keeping my secret locked in my own bosom.
It was a glorious evening. Even in my excited state of mind I could nothelp leaning against the bulwarks and enjoying the refreshing breeze.Away to the westward a solitary sail stood out as a dark speck againstthe great sheet of flame left by the setting sun. I shuddered as Ilooked at it. It was grand but appalling. A single star was twinklingfaintly above our mainmast, but a thousand seemed to gleam in the waterbelow with every stroke of our propeller. The only blot in the fairscene was the great trail of smoke which stretched away behind us like ablack slash upon a crimson curtain. It was hard to believe that thegreat peace which hung over all Nature could be marred by a poormiserable mortal.
"After all," I thought, as I gazed into the blue depths beneath me, "ifthe worst comes to the worst, it is better to die here than to linger inagony upon a sickbed on land." A man's life seems a very paltry thingamid the great forces of Nature. All my philosophy could not prevent myshuddering, however, when I turned my head and saw two shadowy figuresat the other side of the deck, which I had no difficulty in recognising.They seemed to be conversing earnestly, but I had no opportunity ofoverhearing what was said; so I contented myself with pacing up anddown, and keeping a vigilant watch upon their movements.
It was a relief to me when Dick came on deck. Even an incredulousconfidant is better than none at all.
"Well, old man," he said, giving me a facetious dig in the ribs, "we'venot been blown up yet."
"No, not yet," said I; "but that's no proof that we are not going tobe."
"Nonsense, man!" said Dick; "I can't conceive what has put thisextraordinary idea into your head. I have been talking to one of yoursupposed assassins, and he seems a pleasant fellow enough; quite asporting character, I should think, from the way he speaks."
"Dick," I said, "I am as certain that those men have an infernalmachine, and that we are on the verge of eternity, as if I saw themputting the match to the fuse."
"Well, if you really think so," said Dick, half awed for the moment bythe earnestness of my manner, "it is your duty to let the Captain knowof your suspicions."
"You are right," I said; "I will. My absurd timidity has prevented mydoing so sooner. I believe our lives can only be saved by laying thewhole matter before him."
"Well, go and do it now," said Dick; "but for goodness' sake don't mixme up in the matter."
"I'll speak to him when he comes off the bridge," I answered; "and inthe meantime I don't mean to lose sight of them."
"Let me know of the result," said my companion; and with a nod hestrolled away in search, I fancy, of his partner at the dinner-table.
Left to myself, I bethought me of my retreat of the morning, andclimbing on the bulwark I mounted into the quarter-boat, and lay downthere. In it I could reconsider my course of action, and by raising myhead I was able at any time to get a view of my disagreeable neighbours.
An hour passed, and the Captain was still on the bridge. He was talkingto one of the passengers, a retired naval officer, and the two were deepin debate concerning some abstruse point of navigation. I could see thered tips of their cigars from where I lay. It was dark now, so dark thatI could hardly make out the figures of Flannigan and his accomplice.They were still standing in the position which they had taken up afterdinner. A few of the passengers were scattered about the deck, but manyhad gone below. A strange stillness seemed to pe
rvade the air. Thevoices of the watch and the rattle of the wheel were the only soundswhich broke the silence.
Another half-hour passed. The Captain was still upon the bridge. Itseemed as if he would never come down. My nerves were in a state ofunnatural tension, so much so that the sound of two steps upon the deckmade me start up in a quiver of excitement. I peered over the edge ofthe boat, and saw that our suspicious passengers had crossed from theother side, and were standing almost directly beneath me. The light of abinnacle fell full upon the ghastly face of the ruffian Flannigan. Evenin that short glance I saw that Muller had the ulster, whose use I knewso well, slung loosely over his arm. I sank back with a groan. It seemedthat my fatal procrastination had sacrificed two hundred innocent lives.
I had read of the fiendish vengeance which awaited a spy. I knew thatmen with their lives in their hands would stick at nothing. All I coulddo was to cower at the bottom of the boat and listen silently to theirwhispered talk below.
"This place will do," said a voice.
"Yes, the leeward side is best."
"I wonder if the trigger will act?"
"I am sure it will."
"We were to let it off at ten, were we not?"
"Yes, at ten sharp. We have eight minutes yet." There was a pause. Thenthe voice began again--
"They'll hear the drop of the trigger, won't they?"
"It doesn't matter. It will be too late for any one to prevent its goingoff."
"That's true. There will be some excitement among those we have leftbehind, won't there?"
"Rather. How long do you reckon it will be before they hear of us?"
"The first news will get in at about midnight at earliest."
"That will be my doing."
"No, mine."
"Ha, ha! we'll settle that."
There was a pause here. Then I heard Muller's voice in a ghastlywhisper, "There's only five minutes more."
How slowly the moments seemed to pass! I could count them by thethrobbing of my heart.
"It'll make a sensation on land," said a voice.
"Yes, it will make a noise in the newspapers."
I raised my head and peered over the side of the boat. There seemed nohope, no help. Death stared me in the face, whether I did or did notgive the alarm. The Captain had at last left the bridge. The deck wasdeserted, save for those two dark figures crouching in the shadow of theboat.
Flannigan had a watch lying open in his hand.
"Three minutes more," he said. "Put it down upon the deck."
"No, put it here on the bulwarks."
It was the little square box. I knew by the sound that they had placedit near the davit, and almost exactly under my head.
I looked over again. Flannigan was pouring something out of a paper intohis hand. It was white and granular--the same that I had seen him use inthe morning. It was meant as a fuse, no doubt, for he shovelled it intothe little box, and I heard the strange noise which had previouslyarrested my attention.
"A minute and a half more," he said. "Shall you or I pull the string?"
"I will pull it," said Muller.
He was kneeling down and holding the end in his hand. Flannigan stoodbehind with his arms folded, and an air of grim resolution upon hisface.
I could stand it no longer. My nervous system seemed to give way in amoment.
"Stop!" I screamed, springing to my feet. "Stop, misguided andunprincipled men!"
They both staggered backwards. I fancy they thought I was a spirit, withthe moonlight streaming down upon my pale face.
I was brave enough now. I had gone too far to retreat.
"Cain was damned," I cried, "and he slew but one; would you have theblood of two hundred upon your souls?"
"He's mad!" said Flannigan. "Time's up. Let it off, Muller."
I sprang down upon the deck.
"You shan't do it!" I said.
"By what right do you prevent us?"
"By every right, human and divine."
"It's no business of yours. Clear out of this."
"Never!" said I.
"Confound the fellow! There's too much at stake to stand on ceremony.I'll hold him, Muller, while you pull the trigger."
Next moment I was struggling in the herculean grasp of the Irishman.Resistance was useless; I was a child in his hands.
He pinned me up against the side of the vessel, and held me there.
"Now," he said, "look sharp. He can't prevent us."
I felt that I was standing on the verge of eternity. Half-strangled inthe arms of the taller ruffian, I saw the other approach the fatal box.He stooped over it and seized the string. I breathed one prayer when Isaw his grasp tighten upon it. Then came a sharp snap, a strange raspingnoise. The trigger had fallen, the side of the box flew out, and letoff--_two grey carrier pigeons_!
* * * * *
Little more need be said. It is not a subject on which I care to dwell.The whole thing is too utterly disgusting and absurd. Perhaps the bestthing I can do is to retire gracefully from the scene, and let thesporting correspondent of the _New York Herald_ fill my unworthy place.Here is an extract clipped from its columns shortly after our departurefrom America:
"_Pigeon-flying Extraordinary._--A novel match has been brought off lastweek between the birds of John H. Flannigan, of Boston, and JeremiahMuller, a well-known citizen of Lowell. Both men have devoted much timeand attention to an improved breed of bird, and the challenge is anold-standing one. The pigeons were backed to a large amount, and therewas considerable local interest in the result. The start was from thedeck of the Transatlantic steamship _Spartan_, at ten o'clock on theevening of the day of starting, the vessel being then reckoned to beabout a hundred miles from the land. The bird which reached home firstwas to be declared the winner. Considerable caution had, we believe, tobe observed, as some captains have a prejudice against the bringing offof sporting events aboard their vessels. In spite of some littledifficulty at the last moment, the trap was sprung almost exactly at teno'clock. Muller's bird arrived in Lowell in an extreme state ofexhaustion on the following morning, while Flannigan's has not beenheard of. The backers of the latter have the satisfaction of knowing,however, that the whole affair has been characterised by extremefairness. The pigeons were confined in a specially invented trap, whichcould only be opened by the spring. It was thus possible to feed themthrough an aperture in the top, but any tampering with their wings wasquite out of the question. A few such matches would go far towardspopularising pigeon-flying in America, and form an agreeable variety tothe morbid exhibitions of human endurance which have assumed suchproportions during the last few years."
THE END
By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
_Novels and Stories_
DANGER! _And Other Stories_
THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW
HIS LAST BOW _Some Latin Reminiscences of Sherlock Holmes_
THE BLACK DOCTOR _And Other Tales of Terror and Mystery_
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL _And Other Tales of Adventure_
THE CROXLEY MASTER _And Other Tales of the Ring and Camp_
THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT _And Other Tales of Twilight and the Unseen_
THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS _And Other Tales of Long Ago_
THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY _And Other Tales of Pirates_
_On the Life Hereafter_
THE NEW REVELATION THE VITAL MESSAGE THE COMING OF THE FAIRIES THE CASE FOR SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHY THE WANDERINGS OF A SPIRITUALIST OUR AMERICAN ADVENTURE
_A History of the Great War_
THE BRITISH CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS--Six Vols.
_Poems_
THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH
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